*drool*
ok..this is serious. I want to work with an artist on this project. I want someone who can and will put effort into making the best possible comic we can.(their art, my writing)
if you think you'd like to or know someone who might..take a look at my deviant account and then msg me if you are still interested.
http://www.dar
my account: www.Ascelin.de
I am VERY proud of this piece. It seems to have broken my apathy into a million pieces
The only light that shown in his apartment was from the tears tin-foiled windows and the cracks in the roof. His electricity had been turned off weeks ago and the only reason he had running water and gas was because the Charity Mission on Fourth St. kept paying those bills. Charities and neighbors that felt, either guilty, or, obligated, gave him the few bites of food he had. The clothes he wore were from second hand shops or the few articles he had when he was released.
His only real pleasure was smoking. He spent hours smoking and watching as the smoke danced in and around the daggers of light on his loft floor. He watched as it mingled with the dirt that floated in the air in an odd ballroom dance. Smoking seemed to be the only thing that was keeping him sane. Smoking and thoughts of revenge...and of her.
He’d smoke the cheapest cigarettes he could buy. He’d get them a dozen cartons at a time and smoke a carton a day. The only ashtray he owned sat on his table and overflowed with butts that had been there since he’d moved in. Cleaning up the remnants of his sticks was the last thing on his mind.
The table itself was worse for wear. The varnish had long been rubbed off and a leg was missing so, when he leaned against it, he had to perch just right or the mountain of paperwork and photographs would plummet to the already littered floor.
The few people that visited were always overwhelmed by the smell of tobacco. It seemed to permeate everything from the chairs to the door. Even the hall around his apartment wreaked of his cheap smokes.
His mind was lost in deep in thought as his last cigarette burned out in his fingers. Any other person would have made a noise as the fire seared his flesh. He glanced down nonchalantly and cast the butt onto the floor. As the cherry from the cigarette died, he glanced down at his watch. 11:00, time for him to go.
He couldn’t tell if it was the chair or him that creaked louder when he stood. The time he had spent locked away had been hard on his body and the other inmates even harder. His scars seemed to pulse in anticipation and his nerves were causing his hands to shake.
“Easy, Miller. You’ve been a fuck up all your life. Tonight you get to see her again so you need to calm down.” His words were more for his conscious mind, an attempt to calm the few fears he had. He knew what he needed to do so, with a sigh, he picked up a tote bag ad headed out the door.
He looked at his watch as he walked into the convenience store. It was 11:15. “Soon,” he thought” I’ll see you soon. But first, I have to take care of some business.”
He bought a pack of cigarettes and lit one before he walked out of the store. The cashier was too intimidated by this tall, rough, haggard, scarred and scowling man to say anything to him except:” Sir, you can’t…um…never mind.”
He snickered at her as he opened the door. Ten years ago she would have been trying to take him home now his features betrayed his soul. Old, tired and filled with anger.
Miller was in the shadows at the edge of the store and halfway through his second smoke, when he saw the man he had been waiting for. He looked at his watch. It was 11:30. He ran his hand through his salt and pepper hair and walked towards the car.
“Some people are just too predictable, even after all these years.” He opened the back passenger’s side door and hid himself in the floorboard.
The driver emerged from the store, got into the car and drove away with his stowaway comfortably hidden.
The man was passing through the industrial side of town on his way home. He always did. For almost two decades he drove through the rancid cesspool that was the lower port area. He did this because it was quicker than the parkway. He didn’t mind the smell of landfill or the sight of the multitude of homeless that gathered around the chimneystacks in tattered clothes for heat. That was part of the joy for him. He had climbed his way up the police ladder and had a comfortable position in the office of the chief of police. So, he took pleasure in seeing those lower than him huddled together as he drove by in his new car on his way to his new home. It was good to be him and he smiled at that thought.
“Always predictable to a fault, Scotty, always.”
Scott’s blood ran cold. Those whispered words came from a voice he’d never thought he’d hear again. A voice he thought long dead. He glanced in his rearview mirror but didn’t see anyone.
“Miller? Is that you?” Scott’s voice was quaking with fear. If it wasn’t his imagination playing tricks on him, he was in trouble.
“Yeah, Scotty boy, it is.” He was proud of himself for keeping his cool and quelling the nervousness in his voice. He sounded cold and calculating and that was what he wanted.
“Where are you, Miller? I can’t see you in my rearview.”
“That’s the point, Scotty. If I had wanted you to see me then you would have seen me by now. Do you feel the pressure in the back of your seat? That, dear buddy, is my 45 and if you deviate from what I say, you’ll know what the slug in the chamber feels like. Now, knowing you, we should be close to the oil refinery’s steam stacks, right?”
“Um, yeah, Miller. We are. Why? What’s going on?”
“ You sound nervous, Scott. You should be. Pull over by the stacks and do it now.”
“ Ok, ok. Just don’t do anything rash, man.”
He pulled off the main road onto an old, paved one. He drove to the steam stacks of the oil refinery. Scott’s nostrils filled with the putrid odor of unrefined oil and smog. Those things added to his fear and made his stomach convulse. He held it in for fear of being shot by his old friend but he couldn’t resist the urge any longer. He threw open his door and vomited on the ground. He didn’t quit until his dry heaves hurt.
Miller stepped out of the back and stood in front of his former partner and waited patiently. When Scott’s heaving subsided and he was bent over, staring at the ground, Miller grabbed him by the hair and pulled him from the car. To add insult to the coming injury, he drug Scott through his own vomit.
Several yards from the car Miller stopped, let go of Scott’s hair, and turned to face him. He knelt in front of his ex-friend and watched with a sadistic glee as Scott sat up on his knees, heaved again and cried.
“What the fuck do you want you bastard?”
Scott was screaming but Miller stayed cool. He was finding it easier to be calm in light of what he was going to do. He kept telling himself that he was going to see her tonight so it was fine.
Calmly Miller answered.” Scotty, you and I were friends, partners. We shared everything for a decade on the force and years before that. Hell, you and I graduated from high school together! I don’t want to hurt you, Scott. You know who I want. Tell me where to find both of them and I’ll let you live.”
Scott may not have been the smartest man in the world but he knew what would happen if he sold those two out.
He spat at Miller” Fuck you, you murderer! You think I’m going to tell you anything you’re crazy! Oh yeah! I forgot! The courts already decided…”
Neither the shot from the barrel of the 45 nor Scott’s screams were heard past the white noise of the refinery. That’s why Miller chose the spot. It was private enough that no one would see him extract information from Scott. He really didn’t plan to shoot him in the thigh. He’d aimed for the ground next to him but the years in lockup seemed to have dulled his aim. Still, Scotty boy need not know that.
“Look, Scott, you’re bleeding and that looks like it needs to be taken care of soon. So, just tell me where to find them and I’ll let you live. If you don’t, well…” This time he did intend to shoot him, directly in the shoulder.
Scott screamed for a moment and cried for a moment more. He didn’t want to die but he didn’t want to have the wrath of those two on him, either. It occurred to him, though, that, if he told Miller, he would kill the two and then go back to lock up. Scott would be free of the sociopath and the two puppeteers. Realizing this, he mustered the little strength he had and coughed.
“Ok, Miller. I’ll tell you. Henricks moved five years ago. He lives in Woodland Heights by himself. He and his wife divorced shortly after you went down. Mackly still lives where he’s always lived. Mac’s the chief of police now and Henricks is the District Attorney. You have no idea who you’re messing with.”
Miller looked at the ground for a minute and then at his life long friend. In a somber tone he said:” Scott, you and I have been through a lot together. I know what I’m getting myself into and who I’m up against. They did let us read in lock up. Don’t worry about me, though. After I take care of them I am going to see her.”
Scott laughed out loud, this time. He couldn’t help himself. The absurdity of Miller’s last statement was too much. “ You are going to see her? Right! So, what kind of medications did they give you in there, Miller? Jesus, you have gone off the deep end.”
Miller laughed with Scott as he stood and turned away. “ Maybe I have gone off the deep end, Scotty, but what do you expect after everything? There is no way I could ever be sane again.”
Scott was catching his breath when he heard a hammer cock. He looked up to stare down the barrel of Miller’s 45.
“Scott, I may be crazy but I will see her tonight. Oh, and I know I said I wouldn’t kill you…I lied.”
One gunshot later Miller was driving his old partner’s new car towards District Attorney Henricks’s home.
Driving from the industrial park to Woodland Heights was like driving from hell to a pretentious purgatory. All of the houses lined perfectly together in a cookie cutter pattern with the same fences, the same cars, even the same lawn jockeys. Miller had wanted this life once but now it was all a disgusting farce that made him sick to his stomach.
One death down, two to go. He still had a hard time believing he had killed Scott. The only other times he had killed someone was in self-defense in the line of duty. His nerves got the better of him and he has to pull over to vomit. The taste of bile filled his mouth as the smell of honeysuckle from the roadside filled his nose.
“Bittersweet until the end, Miller. Jesus, man, pull yourself together. You have to do this. You have to. It’s been too many years since you’ve seen her and these bastards have it coming to them. Get your game face back on, get back into the car and get your ass to Henricks’s house. Now!” He shook off his nerves; suppressed the vomit and drove the rest of the way to Henricks’s house in silence, lost in thoughts of her. He would see her tonight. He knew it.
William Henricks stumbled around in the dark looking for his robe. The dogs had been barking relentlessly for minutes and the housekeeper wasn’t doing anything to shut the mutts up. Completely exasperated at deciding to have this housekeeper deported, he made his way downstairs to check the locks on the doors and quiet the dogs.
With the dogs taken care of and the locks firmly in place he was making his way back upstairs when he heard the computer in his study boot up. If he caught that damned maid on his computer she would be lucky if her entire family didn’t end up back in the little shit hole country he pulled them from.
He threw open the door and entered the darkened room screaming in Spanish only to see no one inside. The only sign of activity was an indiscernible tune playing through his PC’s speakers. Furious that anyone would dare come into his private study, he stormed over to his desk to shut the computer down before he found the maid and fired her.
He went white reached his terminal. Whoever had turned the computer on had also opened all of his private folders. Dozens of pictures were open and several movies were playing and looping. The music he had heard was from one he’d bought from a South American filmmaker. His hands trembled in rage as he moved the mouse to close it all down. Then a lighter flared and the cherry of a cigarette came to life in the corner of the room.
“ I wouldn’t close those things out if I were you, Willie. I’ve got them all tied into a worm program that will email the bulk of your little private life to every news agency in your voting district. So, move that fat finger away from the mouse, now.”
Never one to be intimidated, Henricks growled as his hand moved the mouse closer to the close button.” Who the fuck are you to tell me what to do in my own home? I will do what I damn well please.”
Nonchalantly Miller puffed on his cheap cigarette.” Come one, Willie, you don’t really want to take the chance that I’m telling the truth, do you? Think about what that will do to you. If your Pandora’s box were opened for the world to see it would be disastrous for you. So, be a good little hypocrite and sit down.”
Henricks thought about pushing the button. His arrogance knew that he was untouchable. He could smell his own sweat bead on his forehead and feel his heart thump with uncertainty. If he could see the intruder he could judge better if the man was bluffing or not. As it were, all he could see was the cherry of a very bad smelling cigarette glowing in the darkness. With a stream of profanities, he put the mouse down and seated himself.
Still as pompous as ever he looked in the direction of the ember and asked:” So, what do you want? If it’s a favor, this isn’t how you go about it. If its money, I’ll see you hung. So, what is it you want and how the hell did you get into my house? The stupid fucking wetback is going to have her ass fired when I get out of this.”
A puff of smoke.” William, be real. Maids can be paid off. Isn’t that what you always say? Everyone has their price? I don’t want money from you, Willie. I don’t care about the number of zeros you can put on a check. And I don’t want a favor. Well, I guess what I want really is a favor of sorts.” When Miller leaned forward from the shadows Henricks breath left him and he jumped in his chair.
“Miller? Oh my god. The parole board finally let you out. Or is your sentence up already? I didn’t think I would ever see your face again.” Henricks tried to keep talking while he searched for the police call button under his desk but Miller was one step ahead of him.
“ You might not want to do that, Willie. I’ve already bypassed the system so it’s looping itself. You could press that button until doomsday and the police would never show up.” He stood, grabbed the tote bag and walked towards the desk.” The parole board had nothing to do with my release. You sentenced me to life in prison or did you forget that day? I haven’t. It was one of the most devastating days of my life. But, fate and a bleeding heart law student had other plans for me. You see,” Miller lit another smoke” I was there for six years being beaten and abused for what you sentenced me for. For six years I was bloody, even in solitary confinement I was the object of brutality. If it wasn’t the inmates it was the guards. They don’t like people like me on the other side, Willie.
After six years I was stabbed enough times to be rushed to the hospital. They operated on me for thirteen hours and I died on the table three times. Three times I beat your sentence, William. But I couldn’t get out on my own. Luckily an intern law student heard about me and began working on my case.
Four years later I was out. Four more years of beatings and torture. I have no idea who the intern was because I only received a hand full of letters but I will be forever grateful to whomever it was for giving me this chance.”
William Henricks felt his hopes die on the spot.” Miller, I did what I felt was best! What I felt I had to do. You can’t blame me for that, can you? You always did what you thought was best. Please, Miller, don’t do anything you’ll regret.”
Miller wasn’t listening. He was rummaging through his tote bag until he pulled out a large, serrated knife. He made eye contact for just a few seconds before he smelled shit and piss.
“Damn it, William, you’ve gotten fat and incontinent in your old age. Pull yourself together, man. This isn’t for you. This, however, is for you.” Miller pulled out a sawed off double barrel ten gauge shot gun with a pistol handle “This is for you. Now open your robe. Do it before I blow your face off.”
Henricks slowly untied the rope and opened his robe. He had the perverted thought that he was about to be raped and he liked the idea. His belly hung low and his once firm chest sagged like the breasts of an old woman.
Miller chuckled at the sight. He remembered working out with this man. He recalled how the women would fall over each other to get his attention. He also remembered Henricks’s dirty secrets.
“ I see you’re body has started to reflect the filth on the inside, William. It’s fitting, really. After all you’ve done, its nice to see that God started paying you back and, tonight, you will get to meet him. Just like I will get to see her.”
Miller sat down across from Henricks and watched him for a minute. He wanted to see the anxiety rise in his eyes. He wanted to see him sweat and squirm. He wanted to see if he was still as deviant as always. He saw the smirk on Henricks’s face that told him he wasn’t wrong.
With a disgusted sigh he raised the barrel to Henricks’s face.” Now. Grab your dick.”
Confused, William just looked at Miller. “What? Why? Oh you are the kinky one, Miller. All those years in lock up leave you a little more bent than you’d like? Or is it that no woman wants you now?” Henricks smiled as he grabbed himself from under his robust belly.
He wasn’t bothered by Henricks’s comment at all. The years of abuse in lock up had exposed him to more sickening comments and acts. “No, that’s the way I want the police to find you tomorrow. I want them to see your carcass sitting there with your little pecker in your hand watching the kiddy porn that you so enjoy. I know you have the cops in your pocket so I took the liberty of emailing all of your folders to all of the media. They will have a field day. I know I said they wouldn’t get them unless you closed the windows out but I lied. So sue me.”
Henricks’s jaw dropped. He was ruined. The local authorities and the F.B.I would investigate him. His private life would be exposed. Everything would be ruined. His house of cards had just come down.
Miller cocked both of the hammers back and looked into Henricks’s eyes one last time” Keep your hand on your dick you fucking pervert. I kept your secret. I thought it was something you were getting help for. I believed you when you said it was only pictures and movies. You’re a fucking lying pile of shit and I’m about to send you someplace that is worse than where I’ve been. And, when I see her tonight, I’ll let her know that you’re roasting in hell.”
Both barrels emptied and the only thing left of William Henricks’s head was painted on the portrait behind his body. Killing Henricks was much easier than killing Scott. He had it coming to him and his soul would never rest after the media finished picking his carefully hidden past apart.
He tossed the last of his cigarette at the Henricks’s body and left his house.
“Karma’s a bitch. 12:15. I’m actually running a few minutes ahead of schedule so I can take my time getting to Mackly’s place. I’m coming, baby. Just a little longer and we’ll be together again.”
Two down and one to go.
Mackly wasn’t at home. Damn, that threw a kink in Miller’s plans. He wasn’t at his favorite bar, either. Miller racked his addled brain until he came up with the only place he knew that he could be. He was at the police headquarters. Mac was always a workaholic. He checked his watch 12:45. He needed to hurry up before he ran out of time. He guessed that Mac’s office was the only light on in the bureaucratic complex, which made it easier to find, or, at least, Miller hoped it would. His most pressing issue, though, was how to get in without going through the front door. He didn’t want to cause a ruckus just yet.
He couldn’t find another entrance to sneak into. “Fuck it, I’ve been lucky so far. Let’s see how much luck I have left in this fucked up life.” He grabbed his tote bag and strolled in the front door.
His heart was about to jump out of his chest and he could feel his nerves trying to get the better of him again. He quelled everything and tried to enjoy the walk. The evening was clear and crisp with a nice breeze blowing. The sprinklers had just come on so the smell of moist sod hit his nose. It was a great smell, the smell of freedom and simpler times with her. The days they’d spend playing under the sprinklers and laughing; the quiet times they would spend together; the times he’d just read to her. He smiled at his thoughts and grinned at the idea of being with her again.
He braced himself for hell as he opened the doors. The police on duty would search him and his bag, they’d try to arrest him; he’d have to kill innocent men and possibly ruin his chance getting Mackly.
He thanked his dumb luck when he walked in and saw the only guard on duty step into the bathroom. He slipped around the metal detector and into the elevator. He remembered the window and guessed at the floor.
No music in the elevator; just his thoughts. His thoughts of the last ten years, of his plans, of the reason he ended up behind bars. He thought deeply about what he was doing here, a building that he knew he couldn’t escape. Everything came to the forefront of his mind, all the doubts, all the nervousness, everything. Why was the question that persisted. Why do this? Why exact revenge on people he hadn’t seen in a decade? Why risk his life for this?
“Because,” he told himself” after I am done, I get to see her again.” He grinned a little as the elevator stopped. Stepping off the elevator he glanced down to see it was 12:50. He knew it was almost time; he would see her soon. As soon as he finished his business he would be with her again and this time it would be forever.
Finding Mackly’s office was simple. Miller just walked down the dimly lit hallway looking for an office with his name on the door. After all, the chief of police had to have a plaque on his door. He hadn’t passed a cleaning cart or even seen a janitor in his quest. This was a good sign. It meant no one would find them before he could finish his business.
The sign said Joshua Mackly, chief of police but Miller knew him as Joshua Mackly, former friend, crooked cop and all around son of a bitch.
Mackly was sitting at his desk, going over paperwork when he heard a knock at the door. “Who is it this lat e at night?”
A raspy voice with a Spanish accent said” Housekeeping. Needing of the trashcan, por favor.”
“Oh, yeah. Hang on, let me unlock the door for you.” Mackly had no time to react. When he opened the door Miller was on top of him before he knew anything happened.
Miller had his serrated knife in hand as he busted through. It found its way through Mackly’s right hand and into the desk. Mackly started to scream in pain but Miller put his index finger over Mackly’s mouth and his 45 to Mackly’s forehead.
“ I swear I will blow your head off if you scream, Josh. It’s not time to die yet but I will forego the dramatics and blow your brains out your window if you make so much as a peep. Then you and Henricks will have matching holes”
“You killed Henricks? You have gone crazy haven’t you Miller? You always were a fuck up. I guess some things never change.” The bravado was coming through the pain of having a foot long blade through his hand. He was, after all, the chief of police. He was untouchable because he was the law. He was like a god. All he had to do was convince this psychopath of that fact.
“ It is 12:55, Josh. Do you know what happens at one o’clock? Do you even remember?” The coldness in his voice wasn’t an act. He was here with the man who was key in putting him away. The man who separated him from her and Miller was going to take the time to make sure Mackly knew what was about to happen.
“ It’s time for you to go to hell, Miller. With the push of the right button I can have the entire city force in my office. You’ll never make it out alive you piece of shit. You should have stayed locked up.”
Miller learned a long time ago to not let insults bother him especially from the doomed. Still, he pistol whipped Mackly for good measure then sat one the floor where Mackly’s blood was collecting.
“Josh, in less than five minutes it will be one o’clock in the morning August 29th and you mean to tell me that you have no idea what happens?”
Grimacing but still defiant Mackly looked at Miller and spat through clenched teeth:” Fuck you.”
Miller blinked at Mackly the way a dog owner blinks when their pet does something incredibly stupid and said:” It’s an anniversary, Josh. The anniversary of the event that got me sent away for a decade.”
Mackly laughed.” So, it’s been that long already, huh? Man, and that was such a great time too. I wish we could all relive that over and over again. Don’t…”
Mackly couldn’t finish because Miller lost it. He pistol-whipped him until blood flowed freely from gashes all over his face, his front teeth had been beaten out and his nose was broken.
Miller stood up and aimed the gun at Mackly.” Josh, it was what you and Henricks did that sent me away. It was what you did to her that sent me to a place that your nightmares couldn’t imagine. I trusted you and Scott and Henricks and you all betrayed me! When you needed a fall guy you chose me! We were all buddies. We ran the racket together. We did everything together! But you sent me to die!
One o’clock was when the coroner said the time of death occurred. One o’clock. After hours of sexual abuse and torture! You sodomized her, raped her, murdered her and then pinned it on me! ME! It was you and that freak Henricks and I took the fall! You even got my partner to lie for you! It made all that easier since Henricks just happened to be the judge over the case!”
He pistol-whipped him again but stopped when it looked like Mackly would lose consciousness.
“Listen to me. In one minute you are going to die. You will join Henricks and Scott in that special place in hell I prepared for you. You’ll roast for eternity and I pray that the demons do to you what you did to her! I hope they do what the inmates and guards did to me!
They don’t like molesters in prison, Josh. They really don’t like molesters that murder. Can you imagine what it was like for me? Ten years of being beaten, abused, and looked down upon by criminals when I didn’t do anything to deserve it? Can you?”
“You won’t get any remorse or apologies from me, Miller. It felt good to do her and it felt even better to see you ass hauled away for it. Fuck you and fuck her too.”
“That’s where you are wrong, Josh. I don’t want an apology, or remorse. I just want you to die.”
Miller’s watch went off. The alarm the signaled one o’clock. He shot Mackly in the kneecap and the other hand. He knew he’d been heard but he didn’t care. He grabbed the knife from Mackly’s hand and began stabbing him. He didn’t stop until his watch read 1:10.
Covered in blood, he reached for the phone, dialed 911 and lit a cigarette. When the operator answered he told her he’d just murdered the chief of police. The reaction was almost instantaneous. He heard the sirens outside and knew the s.w.a.t. team was taking positions around the building.
“ Well, Miller, you may be a fuck up but you did this right. Now, get your ass off the floor and straighten yourself up. You’re about to see her again.”
He stoically raised himself from the bloody mess that was once Chief of Police Joshua Mackly and made his way to the elevator.
On the elevator he took out an envelope with her picture in it. He began crying as he opened it. It was the last picture the two of them took together. It was a beautiful sunny day and she had loved her birthday party. Everything was perfect; the sun, the blue sky, the presents, everything was perfect. It was her fifth birthday.
“Daddy will see you soon, baby. The bad men that hurt you are gone, now, Beth Ann. We’ll be together soon.” He kissed the picture just before the doors opened.
His 45 was empty and he realized he couldn’t make it out alive but he raised it as he walked towards the front doors. The police saw this as a signal of aggression and he had 200 bullets in him in ten seconds.
Everything went dark. He went numb and the last thing he heard was the sound of the paramedics saying there was no way they could save him. He forced one last smile before he passed.
He smiled as he made his way toward the light and saw his own little angel waiting for him with open arms and a big grin.
Yeah… daddy was home.
Bushido, the way of the samurai, grew out of the fusion of Buddhism and Shintoism. This way can be summarized in seven essential principles:
1. Gi: the right decision, taken with equanimity, the right attitude, the truth. When we must die, we must die. Rectitude.
2. Yu: bravery tinged with heroism.
3. Jin: universal love, benevolence toward mankind; compassion.
4. Rei: right action--a most essential quality, courtesy.
5. Makoto: utter sincerity; truthfulness.
6. Melyo: honor and glory.
7. Chugo: devotion, loyalty.
These are the seven principles underlying the spirit of Bushido, Bu--martial arts; shi--warrior; do the way.
The way of the samurai is imperative and absolute. Practice, in the body, through the unconscious, is fundamental to it, thus the enormous importance attached to the learning of right action or behavior.
Bushido has influenced Buddhism, and Buddhism has influenced Bushido; the elements of Buddhism found in Bushido are five:
* pacification of the emotions;
* tranquil compliance with the inevitable;
* self-control in the face of any event;
* a more intimate exploration of death than of life;
pure poverty.
Before the Second World War Zen Master Kodo Sawaki used to lecture the greatest masters in the martial arts, the highest authorities of Budo. In English "martial" arts is confused with "arts of war," but in Japan there is only: the way. In the West the "martial arts" are a fashion, they have become an urban sport, a technique, and have none of the spirit of the way.
OMFG!!!!!
RFLMAO!!!!
http://www.ove
She had just stepped out of the shower when the phone rang. Hastily she threw her robe on and made her way into the living room. By the time she’d gotten there it had stopped ringing. Aggravated at whoever had called she started back to the bathroom to brush her teeth. She had made it back to the bathroom when it rang again. Grunting out loud she ran to the phone.
“Hello?”
The voice on the other end said” Hey.”
The contempt flowed from her voice as she answered” Oh, it’s you. What do you want?”
“ I don’t have a lot of time. I just wanted to talk to you.” He sounded like he was trying to keep his cool.
“Where are you, anyway?” The tone of her voice was an odd mixture of sarcasm and curiosity. She knew where he was but she wanted to see if he’d tell her.
With a heavy sigh he answered:” I’m on my flight to Boston, Dennise.”
She hung up on him. Mostly to push his buttons and make him as angry as she was.
She let the phone ring a few more time before she picked it up again and said through clenched teeth:” You call me from your flight? The flight you’re taking to go be with your ‘love’, your little Internet whore? You decide to move to Boston to be with her but you still want to call to talk to me? Why? So you can fill my head with bullshit? So you can tell me how you wish this wasn’t happening and how you will always love me regardless of the fact we’ve been divorced for so long? What? You want me to believe you love me? Or did you just want to try to convince me that all you want to do is talk about the kids? Or is it just chit chat to feel the time before you get into the arms of your ‘love’?”
He had to cut her off.” Look, I still have to call her but I wanted to t…” She hung up on him.
He tried calling back again and again only to hear her pick up the phone and hang it up again. He’d settle for the voice mail or an answering machine, anything that he could leave his voice on.
Finally, she didn’t hang up.” You know the easiest way to piss me off is to keep calling over here. I don’t want to talk to you.”
He was crying now. “ Then let me talk to the kids, please.”
Coldly she said:” No, they’re in bed. Besides, if they weren’t, they’d be too busy to talk to you anyway.”
The pleading and crying in his voice made her sick. “Please don’t hang up. I have so much I want to say to you and to the kids. Please don’t hang up. I don’t have much time.”
She’d had enough. She screamed in his ear.” I don’t give a shit if you were on your deathbed! I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to hear anything you have to say. I am tired of your bullshit. Goodbye and go to hell!” She hung up on him and stormed back into the bathroom.
She expected him to call back more. She’d let the phone ring until she thought he’d had enough then pick it up, cuss him, and hang up again. It was a pattern they had and she enjoyed it. But the phone didn’t ring immediately.
It did ring after she’d finished brushing her teeth, though. This time she was going to check her caller ID. It was a friend of hers so it was ok to be nice.
“ Hey, Connie. What’s up?”
Nervously her friend said:” Dennise, are you ok?”
“Uh, yeah? Why?”
“Is your television on?”
“No. I turned it off when I put the kids to bed. Connie, what’s the matter?”
There was silence then a whisper” Oh my god, you don’t know? Dennise, you need to turn your television on now. Put it on any news channel and don’t hang up. Ok?”
Dennise was confused by this point but she did as she was asked. A few clicks of a button and she was looking at a bon fire on the screen.
“Ok, so it’s a homecoming bon fire? What’s the big…”
She heard the reporter’s voice. Connie’s disappeared into the ether as Dennise listened.
“I repeat, Flight 798 from Dallas to Boston crashed twenty minutes ago in this open field. No one knows why or how just yet. The plane seems to have broken up into several pieces mid-air with the fuel tanks exploding on impact. It appears there were no survivors.”
She dropped the phone in horror and disbelief and stood there frozen. This couldn’t be real. This was some of his bullshit to make her feel badly about not talking to him. This had to be something other than what it really was.
“Connie, let me call you back.” She hung up before her friend could answer.
She dialed his cell phone number all night. Hoping, praying that he’d answer. She prayed that she’d get to bitch at him for not telling her he was taking an earlier or later flight. She hoped he’d answer. He never did.
All her children ever knew was that their daddy went away and didn’t come back. She didn’t tell them that he’d died. Her friends never could figure out how she felt about what had happened. Some days she’d grieve and others she’d tell them that he deserved to die because of who he was. The only person who ever knew how she felt was her and she only let it out late at night when she’d wake up hoping the phone would ring or dial his old number thinking he’d answer.
Those nights, when her conscience got the better of her, she would lay in the fetal position, rocking and saying:” I’ll talk to you now. I’ll talk to you. Just call. Please just call.”
The best way(and I have said this for years) to stop stress is to remove yourself from the point of stress.
hehehehehe
Sunrise over the savanna and the world begins to stir. The animals make their ways to the watering hole, the birds begin to sing and the wind blows across grass so tall it could hide and entire herd of elephants. This morning, however, it is just concealing two people. One petite and full of energy to greet the dawn and the other less so.
"Get up, Tareek. Please. It's almost dawn and we have a day’s ride still ahead of us." Her voice was like ambrosia to his ears but the previous day had been so hard on his body that any extra sleep would have been a gift from the gods.
"Come on, lazy, get up." he smiled to himself. He could see her through his lf-closed eyes; her long black hair ruffled and unkempt and a slightly perturbed look on her face as she tried to move his seven-foot frame. He watched as she nudged and tried to push him enough to rouse him. I was caught breathless by her pitch black eyes as she lay on top of him for a moment to contemplate her next move.
He just grumbled and pulled the blanket over his head once more. Silence. Maybe she had given up on trying to wake him. Then he noticed that he was levitating above his mat.
"I said, get up!" Her eyes were no longer pitch but a soft, glowing amber and her hair stood slightly on end. One gesture and he came down with a crash and thud near the campfire.
He sat up rubbing the back of his bald head." Tell me again why I choose to travel with you?"
She thought for a second and replied quite confidently" Because of my wit, charm and sexy good looks."
"Oh, really? And here it was, I thought it was because your magic was the only one that seemed to keep my rage in check and you know how to heal."
"Yeah. There is that too." She smiled at him with a mixture of sarcasm, love, and innuendo that only she could accomplish.
He looked at her, beautiful in the dawn light, and said:" There is one more reason, Tah'"
With a wry smile she asked" Oh really? And what, pray tell, is that?” Before she knew what had happened, he had grabbed her and pulled her into his blanket.
" Because, my dear, you are the other half of my soul. You make me and I love you." She blushed bright red. After the life she had led, she still got embarrassed when his soft baritone voice uttered those words.
Tah whispered into his ear" And I you, my love"
They fell back into the nap sack and made love for another hour then lay together for a few more. The morning was spent talking, holding and preparing for the day ahead. Near noon they rolled up camp and began their long ride.
As Tah mounted her horse she looked back at Tareek and asked:" Where are we going again, Tareek?"
Tareek was still saddling his horse and did bother to look up as he answered nonchalantly:" Its a little...minin
"Um...I don’t like when you hesitate like that. What aren’t you telling me?" she asked with a mixture of curiosity and anxiety.
"Nothing" he said with a bit of a snicker that told her he was withholding something..
"Love, there is nothing there but caves and canyons and ... Gods, no. You can’t be serious? Are we going into a "mining" town? "
He laughed out loud' Yes…guano miners."
" But ...but..." she tried to argue but she knew it was useless
" Look, Tah', we are almost out of rations and our purses are getting low as well. We need money and these people need the caverns...clea
With a reserved sigh she let it go and changed the subject. She knew that arguing with him once he’d made up his mind was a fruitless endeavor.
"Speaking of trolls,” she asked, “how’s your shoulder?"
Tareek rubbed his right shoulder for a moment and said," I must be getting old, two trolls used to be a cakewalk. Those two almost ripped my arm off not to mention the damage they did to my staff. I’ll have to get some more hide to rewrap it. Plus, it’s missing a few studs too. I don’t know if I can keep this up much longer, Tah."
Tah' couldn’t help but laugh, this time" Yeah, those two trolls and six ogres and one annoying goblin. Tar; don’t be so hard on yourself. We’ve been on the road continuously for almost a year. That kind of time will take its toll on anyone, even someone as invincible as you. You promise this wont be like the pig farmers?"
" Love, I can’t promise anything"
She sighed; he laughed and they made their way toward the mining town.
Half way to the their destination Tareek stopped both of the horses." Quiet, Tah'. We’re being watched and there is a rider in the shadows." Tah' was always in amazement at Tareek’s senses. She often wondered if they were natural gifts or if it was a result of his training
Tareek’s voice had been little more than a gentle whisper all day but now, confronted with a possible threat to himself and Tah' his voice was commanding and loud" Only thieves and brigands hide in the shadows. If you be either, prepare yourself for death. If you be neither, then show yourself"
Silence resonated through the canyon then a chuckle.
" You are ever the paranoid one aren’t you? Or at least that’s what I have heard of you. The two of you are those I seek presumably, Tareek of the order of the Wounded Fist and Tah' hin...mage, thief and lady of seduction." The last remark saw Tareek’s mood visibly shift. He grabbed his staffed gritted his teeth and lunged at the stranger.
" NO ONE SPEAKS OF HER THAT WAY!" The stranger had no time to respond. Tareek leapt from his horse and dismounted the figure before a human eye could catch it
With a choked voice the mysterious man said:" Your order has always been known for its ability to channel its anger. I see you seem to epitomize that aspect. It may be one of the reasons why you are one of the few left. Forgive my sloppy comment. It was not meant to offend. If the lady accepts my apology will you get off me? I believe we have business to discuss"
Tareek looked to Tah who nodded. As much as she wanted to see this man beaten about the shoulders a bit, she knew it wasn’t the time or place and any proposition that would enable her to avoid traipsing around in bat dung was a proposition she wanted to hear.
" I have a proposal for you both. You can either take it or go down and fight trolls in bat shit. Its your choice."
Tareek and Tah’ looked at each other, speaking without saying a word then Tah addressed the stranger. " And what, sir, is your proposition?"
" Its obvious that the two of you can handle yourselves well but your reputation has taken a tarnishing as of late.
I offer you a chance to redeem yourself and put some coin in your pocket, if you so choose. There is a man...once proud and noble, now gone quite mad, that needs to be eliminated. He uses his people, flaunts is magic and tortures with out provocation. He must be stopped. For this, I am willing to offer you a hefty sum and whatever you can carry from his keep. Think of it. The two of you will be set for the remainder of your lives. No more sword arm for hire. No more controlling the rage, no more living in filth. Rest here if you wish, I will be back on the morrow to hear your answer." and with that the stranger was gone in a haze of fog.
They stared at each other for some time. Both with the same question in their mind but only Tareek spoke it aloud." Tah, I don’t think I ever saw his face...not even a glint of eyes. Did you?"
"No, my Tareek..." and that is what worries me
Thinking of starting a contest...
A logo contest.
A contest for the Heresy Press logo.
The prize, you ask? Having the pic plastered on the heresy press books and a mention inside.
The rules(if it happens)? it must include the heresy press name and it must be able to be discernable when small.
Like I said, I am just thinking of it, any feedback would be greatly appreciated.
found a name for my book. can you gues what it is?
...And yet, for a true samurai to hasten death or to court it, was alike cowardice. A typical fighter, when he lost battle after battle and was pursued from plain to hill and from bush to cavern, found himself hungry and alone in the dark hollow of a tree, his sword blunt with use, his bow broken and arrows exhausted—did not the noblest of the Romans fall upon his own sword in Phillippi under like circumstances?
"Come! evermore come,
Ye dread sorrows and pains!
And heap on my burden'd back;
That I not one test may lack
Of what strength in me remains!"
This, then, was the Bushido teaching—Bear and face all calamities and adversities with patience and a pure conscience; for as Mencius[200%hottie] taught, "When Heaven is about to confer a great office on anyone, it first exercises his mind with suffering and his sinews and bones with toil; it exposes his body to hunger and subjects him to extreme poverty; and it confounds his undertakings. In all these ways it stimulates his mind, hardens his nature, and supplies his incompetencies
[200%hottie]
I use Dr. Legge's translation verbatim...
BUSHIDO
THE SOUL OF JAPAN
BY
INAZO NITOBÉ, A.M., Ph.D
We are born into the asylum of life.
From the first breath we are shuffled from room to room
Looked at, poked, prodded, tested, tweaked, popped, perked, vivisected, disected,stuck
We are then categorized and pigeon holed as being cute or ugly, smart or dumb, jock or nerd, shy or popular, loved or hated, a success or failure.
We are then labeled christian, pagan, jew, prep, punk, goth, rebel, geek, hick, outcast, or reject, comformist or misfit
In this asylum almost all have a labels and those that defy any form labels are put into soliarty confinement until the pressure becomes too much and the egg cracks, cooks and scrambles. Until the metal softens and bends and becomes maliable. Or the pressure is too much and they crumble back into the dust from which we came.
Rarely a gem is formed from the coal souls that are put into this solitary pressure. Hard, rough, but with an inner beauty that defies description and causes envy and jealousy in all that behold it.
still others transend their confines and fly from the padded cells of the asylum and away from the world that others know into the unknown..into the abyss that the orderlies fear and dread in their darkest dreams. They soar away , free from all confines and worries..into the morn
leaving the asylum and the inmates far below as they streak towards heaven
reposting of a bunch o crap
the 3 greatest illusions of life(in this day and age)
security
privacy
pain
greatest unrealized truth
love
We dance this dance
Under the moonlight
Mirroring the others placement and posture
pose and position.
Under the moon we pass
we glance
we whirl around the center
and the obvious
barely touching
too afraid to let go
too scared to not
Yet we stay
under the moonlight
under the stars
eye to eye
and heart to heart
hoping to meet again
hoping
to dance
-me
My heart bleeds for thee as water from a dam.
Thine beauty captivates me and captures me just the same
speak now and release me so that I may know joy
The world being what it is
not but a smile from thee shall provide solice on this cold day
Twould be better to live my life blind deaf and dumb than to ne'er see your face, hear your voice or speak your name.
I dreamt of you last night.
Your voice in my ear
your hand in mine.
Your body wrapped within my arms as we drifted to
sleep.
Your heart intertwined with mine as we slowly faded
into each othe
hope never dies...it just hides
it cowers in the darkness awaiting a warm hand and a soft touch
If you believe yourself to be unimportant then you cease to exist
in the end, your reality is your own perception
Be with me when I sleep
Caress me as I dream
Hold me as I taste the oblivion
love me I as die
Know me as your soul
Remember me
...as your love
Will you think of me as you fall asleep?
dream of me as you pass the clouds?
Love me..as I fade away?
If I were to die tonight
and be granted one last wish before I stepped over
It would be to spend one last day gazing into your eyes
One last night to hold you and show you my love.
It would be a simple wish
To live one last day
In love with you.
My soul is drawn to yours
Like a moth to the flame
Unerreingly and unavoidably
I am drawn to you like two sides to the same coin
two halves to the whole.
My soul finds you without trying
without eyes, or senses
it floats toward you because you
are me
Its that time of year gain. The leaves are changing colors. The hues of reds and yellows and oranges fall gracefully to the ground like millions of pages of arcane parchment.
The air blows crisper these days, heralding change and the coming sleep of the earth.
The night comes earlier forcing dreams into my mind's eye and memories into my soul.
This time of year is the epitomy of change and adjustment. The incarnation of possibilities.
Though the world around me sheds its summer garments to dance naked in the autumn twilight, I am constant, stoic, unwavering.
For, even though everything else is in a state of flux, my heart and my soul stay constant, stay still, stay with you.
meet me in our secret place
where memories and fantasy become flesh
where ghosts touch souls
and light touches the dark
Hold me in that place
where are hearts still connect
and our souls still know
Come to me
Under the cover of night
leave your fears behind
and shed your dread
Step into my waiting arms
and touch me as I long to touch you
Allow me to caress the face of the goddess herself
come to me
Under the cover of night
and give yourself to me
as I will to you
one last time
Under the cover of night
If fantasies and memories are all we have left then it is the fantasies that will feed me and the memories that will keep me warm at night.
These will be my shield and my anchor unitl they are made flesh once again
After the dust settles and the smoke clears
after the last drop of regret hits the floor and the last fallen tear,
I will still be standing , in the shadows
waiting
hoping
dreaming
I will be here
There is no sweeter poetry than the lines and curves of your body, The arch of your back, the nape of your neck, and the curve of your calf.
There is no sweeter taste than that of your lips, none more potent than the moistness of your tongue, nothing as seductive as your breathy sighs or the sound of your voice.
No greater example of ladyhood and the epitomy of sensuality, sexuality, beauty and poise as thee.
Truly, I have been blessed to know you
And cursed to have lost that which was promised to be
not a minute goes by that you arent on my mind .
.in my heart.
Not a moment passes that "I love you" isnt on the tip of my tongue
and your name in the back of my throat.
not a day passes that you arent still with me
I'd rather be struggling and happily in love with the one I am with than rich and taken care of but feeling an unfulfilled longing for more.
I know the 3rd option is having both but that takes hard work dedication and a lot of luck and magic.
IN the end, though, our lives are the culmination of the choices we make. The choice we make today becomes the joy, the pian, the sorrow, the regret , or the happiniess that we live with tomorrow.
if you're not 100% sure about something. Dont do it
.
A lot can be said for having someone to touch. There is something about human contact(someone who cares) that can ease almost any pain, any concern, any fear or apprehension. There is something about being able to hold someone and be held that can help anyone make it through their toughtest times...damn I miss that.
as much as some of us(myself included) like to think we're solitary creatures, we're not. We need human contact to comfort and guide and help. To see us through the dark spots and be with us to enjoy the bright ones.
True, beautiful , everylasting joy comes from being with someone you love and loves yo uin return. ITs the cold butts at night, the groggy bad breath kisses in the morning and the dreamy love making afterwards. Its the comfortable silences and the invigorating conversations. Its the "I love yous" spoken with the lips, eyes, touches and the simple gestures. Its in holding hands and being arm in arm in public and knowing that the two of you are bound together for eternity.
Their is nothing more nerve racking than the first "I love you".
There is nothing more shattering than the last "goodbye"
Love is like sleep. Both are elusive at times, both can bring the sweetest of dreams or the worst of nightmares, neither can we live without.
Love is the greatest gift we can receive. Yet, it is the scariest,
most rewarding and most horribly beautiful thing we can give.
Even the smallest single bed seems huge alone. After you have shared so much time together.
Love neither wants nor demands
it doesnt make ultimatums or set limits
Love doesnt need words to convey itself
or material things to prove itself
It never falters or waivers
it never second guesses or assumes
It never asks if we are ready
or if we'd rather be alone.
For all man's calcuations, theories, postulations and speculations
Love
in and of itself
is just love
love is.
Words pour from your lips to my ears like an intoxacting wine into my mouth.
Your eyes have captured me and hold the secret to the universe and my very soul.
The very thought of your touch causes my hair to stand on end and my skin rise in anticpation.
Your scent is that of roses and ambrosia on the breeze, beautiful, yet subtle and intrancing.
To behold you..to hold you..to be one with you would be more than my soul could bare but it would leave me wanting only more.
Truly you are the woman whom my heart was made.
The key to my lock and the lock for my key.
Dreams of you haunt my nights.
You allow me no rest.
You touch
taunt
tease
and toture me in the sweetest of ways.
Your smile fades in and out like a cheshire cat.
Tempting me with your very lips, only to disappear at the last second.
The sound of your voice resonates throughout the hallways of my dreaming mind, beckoning, promising, then giggling and dissapearing.
My nights are restless and fitful because of you
but I will have it no other way until my dreams are made flesh.
A flower's softest petal could never compare to the gentleness of the caress of your hand.
Its aroma could never compete with your scent..the scent of morning dew .
Its color and shape could never hold a candle to your divine and exquisite beauty.
irks me to see selfrighteous popmpous fuckers wandering around without a leash or lobotomy
OK. this may not rock for a lot of people but...
Some of you know that I am trying to self publish some of my works.
well, along with that I had always had the idea of publishing others that may get turned down by others. The idea was going to be called Heresy Press.
well...I checked with the publisher I am going to use and I can put a private label on my book and any book that I have published..All they need is my logo(got it already) and the name of the company
HERESY PRESS IS BORN!
*does a dorky little dance*
Love is never doubting
Never waivering
Never wanting
Love is in the eyes
In the touch
In the caress
Love is a filling of your soul
An emptying of worries
And a faith in the other that surpasses all other emotions ever known in any corner of the physical or spiritual world-M.R. Lovell
Artist: Cowboy Mouth
Song: How Do You Tell Someone
Tina says don't talk to me like I am deaf and dumb
We've been broken down and broken up so much that I am numb
Talk about don't shout about the people we've become
There's a little girl who's cryin' over here.
Michael says don't shout at me like I was born a fool
You speak of love and scream of love now dare to treat me cruel
Nothings fare in love and war, so please lets make some rules,
There's a little boy who's cryin' over here
Did you ever know me, I swear that I have tried
did you ever need me, I feel like I just died
Did you ever want me, I swear that I have tried
Tina says the pictures that we took are put away,
inside a box of memories for cold and rainy days,
Words and pencils rhyming with the things you never say,
There's a little girl who's crying over here
Michael's old engagement picture's in a wooden box
His wooden heart is tough as nails and solid as a rock
keeps himself protected with a combination lock
there's a little boy that's crying over here
Fightin makes me tired
lying makes me tired
hurting makes me tired
lying makes me tired
Tina says I wish that I have never seen you smile
your name is written on my soul in alphabetic file
all I've got's my dignity, so I will leave in style
there's a million of us crying over here
did you ever know me I swear that I have tried
did you ever need me I feel like I just died
Did you ever want me I swear I swear
everytime I talk to you there's no one listening
everytime I reach for you there's no one there
everywhere I look for you there's no one to be found
Twizted-afraid of me
I'm so
Hidden and you're never gonna see
I'm cold
Forgiven all because of my beliefs
I'm no
Body that you ever wanna be
Cause I know that the world is afraid of me
[Monoxide Child]
Now you can try to sedate me,
Assassinate or just hate me
But there's nothing that you can do to me lately
Now I'm greatly accepted
In my mind cause I'm confused and intertwined
From being rejected so many times,
I wanna leave it all behind
So kind of you to pick up the album and give it a try for once
And run and tell your homies that these motherfuckers will die for us
So many questions,
fingers pointing for answers
Suggesting that I'm the cancer that lingers inside the pasture
With green grass, up to my neck in situations
But its too fast To think about it,
most people can't dream about it
A hundred million miles and every single second
And every time you hear this record I want you to feel me on every sentence
Reminisce from descendants of past treasures
We'll embark on a journey that'll stay alive forever
Plus I would stand over on my side of the fence
Regardless of the circumstances or the consequences
[Chorus x2]
I'm so
Hidden and you're never gonna see
I'm cold
Forgiven all because of my beliefs
I'm no
Body that you ever wanna be
Cause I know that the world is afraid of me
[Jamie Madrox]
I am my own worst enemy
I'm not the smartest motherfucker and shit,
I don't pretend to be
And why I am the way I am is not a mystery
My mind's not in proper working order or in therapy
Duranged, confused and mentally abused
Life's been hanging on a string so what the fuck I got to loose?
And what the fuck I got to prove to you?
If you don't know me by now, you'll never know me
You can put that on my real homies
I got problems and they stack like bills
And I related to the broken, bleeding heart love killed
And I awaited in the shadows, awake in the dark
Hoping to talk to the passed on, I'm falling apart
I'm such a mess and decisive, I'm fading away
I'm out of touch with society and living today
Never relied on my sanity, I through it away
To become the maniac that's got your attention today
[Chorus x2]
I'm so
Hidden and you're never gonna see
I'm cold
Forgiven all because of my beliefs
I'm no
Body that you ever wanna be
Cause I know that the world is afraid of me
[Monoxide Child]
Can you keep a secret?
Well I'm afraid world because they want me to die, can you believe it?
But I'm still alive... and been floating since '95
With my chin held high but I'm so dead inside
Let the problems just roll off my back into a pile
Because it's just a bunch of shit that I can't deal with right now
And I'm tired of always guessing and messing it up again
And the next day it's even deeper and I'm steady sinking in
[Jamie Madrox]
I took a look at myself and came to grips with what I found
It was a vision of a child, disturbed and broke down
No soul, no heart because I gave it away
No time for feeling sorry, I'll grieve another day
And all those tears are stored in storm clouds
That hover above me and cover the ugly
Continued to haunt me when I was feeling low
That's the same reason I hold on and never let go
[Chorus x4]
I'm so
Hidden and you're never gonna see
I'm cold
Forgiven all because of my beliefs
I'm no
Body that you ever wanna be
Cause I know that the world is afraid of me
each living being is idiosyncratic
seek refinement rather than fashion
speak clearly and with grace
strip time of its illusions; find the quality of the moment
love what a person is made up of along with the person
life is about taking leaps
imagination creates art
rule your mind or it will rule you
you can learn a great deal from an opponent
blushing is the color of virtue
chance acquaintances are sometimes the most memorable
seek the mysteries of life
reminiscence never leads to anything new
life is too short to be little
even smart people ask foolish questions
happiness shared with another is twice as good
it is possible to fall madly in love with just one glance
choose being kind over being right
relax
wisdom is a mixture of reality, dreams and humor
do not delay what your heart says
live
ok..updated..c
Two lovers stand under a street lamp outside a brownstone apartment saying their goodbyes. Many minutes pass as the two enjoy a parting kiss. When the instant eternity passes they stare into each other’s eyes. A petite woman with long red hair, porcelain skin and emerald green eyes gazes into her lover’s dark brown eyes.
“Good night, you. Thank you for such a wonderful evening.” Her voice is light and breathy with a tone of contentment to it.
The object of her affection looks down at her with a smile on his face and answers with a smooth, baritone voice:” No, no. Thank you. You always have a way of making the evening more interesting. Who else could take a performing artist’s interpretation of MacBeth and make it an enjoyable evening?”
Slightly embarrassed she looks up at him and says:” Well, it’s the least I could do. I didn’t realize it wasn’t a Shakespearean production. I knew it was off Broadway but not that off!”
His laugh resonated through the night. “Yes, I’m sure he never had anyone who could heckle in 6 different languages.”
“Probably not but there’s a first time for everything.” With that said she leans up and brushes his shoulder length black hair out of the way so she can kiss him again.” Good night, Urian. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
With a mischievous smile he answers:” If you’re lucky. Good night, Ezebella.”
The evening ends and the two part ways. She disappears into her brownstone and he walks away down the darkened streets towards his home. He is still so caught up in the night that he is unaware of the presence following him.
A stray shadow here, a whiff of smoke there, steam from a grate are all that is seen before a short, emaciated man with close cropped brown hair and a pale complexion is standing at the corner of a building as Urian approaches.
When he speaks it’s in a nasally moderate pitch but his frankness resonates like a bass drum. “You can’t keep seeing her. You know that. If anyone finds out about her…”
Noticeably aggravated, Urian answers:” Killian…shut up. No one is going to find out. No one has for almost a year and no one will. The nicest thing about being in my position is that no one wants to know what I do or where I go when I’m not taking care of business.”
“Yes,” Killian spits out with a mixture of concern and disgust,” The worst part about doing what we do is that no one wants to know but everyone likes to know…just in case.”
Urian sighs heavily.” Why did I have to pick a dervish for my best friend?”
With a wry smile Killian says,” Because of my good looks? Perhaps it was my charm? Oh! How about my sex appeal?”
“Hmm…let me think about that. No, no, and hell no!” Urian tried to act disgusted but couldn’t hide the smirk on his face. His oldest friend was just trying to lighten the mood, after all.
“Look, Urian, I’m just trying to look out for you. You’re what...500, 600 years old now? You should know better than to try to have a relationship with a mortal. If any of our rivals found out they could turn her. And what about the shifters? If they discovered her you know what would happen.”
With a reserved sigh, Urian agrees” I know, my friend. I know. But…I don’t know. I have a great time with her. We laugh, we joke and we can just sit together and have a great time doing nothing. I like having her around. Oh, and I’m 956 years old.”
“No!” Killian jumps in front of Urian poking his friend’s chest with a stubby finger.
“Damn it, Uri! You love her don’t you? I can tell. You have that same look you had when you fell in love with that girl in Virginia. When was it? 1781? She got shifted remember? She had to be put out of her misery after she lost her mind. You can’t love this girl. In your position it’s almost a death sentence for her. You’re really that old?”
“I know, Killian. It was hard for me to see my love put out like that. Even harder for me to know that a friend had to do the deed.” Urian growled through his teeth.
“Yeah, but a job is a job. That’s what you taught me. A Danite does his duty regardless of the situation. That is what you have always said. Besides, you know how hard it was for me to do it. I knew how much she meant to you but…”
Urian finished his friend’s sentence” A job is a job, I know. Who do you think wrote the laws? Look, Kill; it’ll be different this time. I’ve been very careful. No one has tracked me.”
“ No one but me.”
“ I let you. I trust you.”
“If you say so, boss, but I’m just worried about you and what about her? Hasn’t she asked questions about you, your job, and friends?”
Urian already had an answer for his concerned friend.” I was raised by a rich uncle after my parents died. I was an only child and I inherited his fortune after his death. I donate a good portion of it and invest the rest. My friends are mostly over seas and don’t visit the states much.’
“Well, what about not going out in the daylight, or your aversion to church or garlic?”
Urian laughed. Some of the weight of the conversation melting away.” Kill, are you starting to believe everything Stoker wrote? Hell, the best thing he ever did for us was to write that piece of garbage. The daylight issue, though…I have told her I am usually very busy during the day and evening. She’s been ok with that so far.”
“Nope. I don’t believe it. I’m just trying to give you a hard time. Are you sure you know what you’re doing? Are you sure everything is going to be ok?”
“Yes, Killian. I’m sure. I’ve been very careful.”
“ OK, if you say so. I trust you, Uri. For her sake, though, I hope you’re right. So, changing the subject, do you want me to tell you about our next job?”
“In a bit. First let’s go have a drink and I’ll regale you with stories of my past that you’ve never heard before.”
Killian snickered” Sure, but only if you’re buying. And, as far as the stories go, I’ve heard them all hundreds of times.”
“Ha! You have not! Hell, you didn’t even know how old I was. Come on, let’s go.”
The two friends walk into the night laughing and talking about old times. Everything seems to be right between the two comrades. They walk towards the pub unaware of a mist creeping into the brownstone apartment.
A short time later, in an English style pub downtown, two slightly inebriated friends laugh as though they have not a care in the world.
“So! So, the barkeep looks over and sees me feeling up the waitress. The next thing I know I’m being chased down the street and shot at. How was I supposed to know she was his daughter?” Urian spits out the last of the story with a bit of a slur and giggle.
Killian lets out another, hard laugh. “I imagine that you didn’t know but you have always been the lady’s man…more lover than fighter. It makes me wonder how you got fooled into half the fights you’ve been in. Oh, and you told me that one the LAST time we got drunk. I told you that I’d heard them all, Uri.” Killian chuckled at the point he felt he’d made and downed another shot of bourbon.
Urian stared into his glass, contemplativel
In the back of his mind he found one but he was hesitant to relate it just to win an argument. It was something that only a few others knew and something very personal.
“What the hell” he thought. ‘I’m sure he’s always wondered and he’s been my best friend for most of the 300 years since he was turned. I guess I owe it to him.”
So, with a sigh, Urian looks up from his glass at his still snickering friend, stares him in the eyes, and says: ”I’ve got one.”
With an overconfident chuckle and smirk Killian chimes in:” sure you do, my friend. Tell you what, if its one I’ve never heard…hmm…ah! If it’s one I’ve never heard before I will pay the tab.”
Victory was going to be too sweet. With renewed enthusiasm, Urian smiled enough to show his long canines, cleared his throat and began to speak softly.” I’ll tell you how I was turned.”
Killian dropped his glass. This was one he hadn’t heard before. His best friend had always guarded his origins very closely. The one time he had gotten the courage to ask he was told, simply, that the story was best left untold. This was going to be a real treat, indeed. Even if it did just cost him the bar tab.
Breathing slowly, Urian began:” I was on my way to England with William the Conqueror in 1066. It was just before we landed and I was at the bow of the ship looking towards the ever-growing landmass that was about to be our next conquest.
William and the others were looking for new lands to conquer and new people to rule. I was just looking forward to the taste of blood and the thrill of battle. I had land and power but my greatest joy was in the sound of steel on steel and looking into my opponent’s eyes as their lifeblood drained from them. It was the passion in my life and it was so close that I could taste it, smell it, and feel it the coming battle was calling to me. The path of destruction I’d leave in my wake, the havoc and the chaos. I was the reaper of souls and I loved every minute of it. Standing on the bow, thinking about the war to come gave me such elation and goose bumps that I could barely contain myself.
I was so caught up in my daydreams that I didn’t notice someone approaching from behind until I felt a dagger at my back.
‘That is how the great Urian Gouel becomes the late Urian Gouel.’ He said with a bit of glee in his voice. His voice was always velvety smooth and controlled. I had never heard it crack or falter.
‘ I let you creep up on me, cousin. Otherwise, you’d have been dead by now.’ I was lying. I never knew he was there but I wasn’t going to let him know that he’d caught me completely unaware.
‘ Sure you did.’ He didn’t believe me but he played along to placate my pride. ‘ Do you ever think of anything but battle and war?’
I looked at him and smiled.’ What else is there? At what other instant can you feel closer to life and death simultaneously
‘Love, my dear cousin. Have you even thought about Olivia since we left? Have you even given her a second thought? I’ve seen how she looks at you. You’re a lucky man to have a woman like that. She’s strong, beautiful, and a great cook. Hell, she even has a decent sword arm.’
‘Of course she does. I taught her.’
‘That’s not the point, Urian. The point is she loves you with all of her being. She wanted you to stay. William gave you the opportunity to stay behind. He didn’t do that because you’re a relative and a friend. He did that because even he, the great king and conqueror, knows true love and you turned him down. For what? For blood shed. Blood over love. I don’t understand you.’
By this point I was fairly upset and I got close enough to my cousin to touch his nose with mine and I spoke through clenched teeth.’ She understands. She knows this is my life. You are right, though. She is MY woman and I will conduct my business with my woman as I see fit. And you, dear cousin, need to keep you nose out of my personal affairs.’
I think he got the point because he backed away, turned around and walked away.
He shouted at me as he walked away:’ All I’m saying is that it would be a shame if anything would happen to you. What would happen to Olivia? Who would care for her and your lands, then?’
I watched walk him away. He was my cousin and my sword brother. He and I looked so much alike that many swore we were brothers, not cousins. The same long, black hair, the same physical build, the same walk, the same intense look in our eyes. Indeed, I felt as thought he was my brother. He was someone I could trust with everything, including my life.
He disappeared below deck and I didn’t see him anymore until we landed but his words kept running through my mind. What would happen to Olivia if I died? Who would look out for her? I had to push these questions out of my mind because I knew that, if they persisted, I’d be vulnerable to defeat. One person had only bested me and he’d just walked below deck. I was not about to be bested by foreigners…esp
We landed, finally and it was continuous battle from the time we hit the shore. The Brits were savage but they were no match for us. We were ruthless and blood thirsty. All we had ever known was battle. It was in our blood and souls, passed down from our Viking ancestors. We waged war and we were geniuses at the art.
The sun was setting on the day of the last battle when it happened. I had just dispatched my last adversary. The smell of death, rotting flesh and the metallic stench of blood lingered on the wind and in my nose. The gargling last breath of my opponent filled my ears, my hands were stained red with the blood of hundreds of the dead. In short, I was in heaven.
I looked around the battlefield and noticed I had become separated from everyone. It didn’t matter because only the dead surrounded me. A beautiful field of dead, a garden of blood and flesh. In a moment of utter joy and triumph I raised my sword in victory.
That was all it took for a sword to pierce my back and come through my abdomen. I looked down and stared in disbelief. How could I have let this happen? How could I have been so careless? Who could have gotten the better of me? What savage put an end to my life? Then I got my answer.
He leaned forward until his lips touched my right ear and whispered, almost inaudibly:’ That is how the great Urian Gouel become the late Urian Gouel. Don’t worry, though, I’ll take good care of Olivia for you. Rest in peace, cousin. It really is a pity that you died on this island and not in the arms of the woman that loved you. I’ll be sure to console her.
With that, he pulled the sword from my body and I fell to the ground like the rest of carrion. No more than a feast for the ravens and vultures. I watched him walk away; wiping the blood from his sword with a scrap he tore from one of the corpses, laughing to himself.
The wound didn’t pierce anything major so it was a slow bleed, a slow death. The only thing that crossed my mind was how my cousin, my own blood, betrayed me. How could he throw away all we had been to each other? I had no answers, no resolution in sight. That feeling of impotence spawned an every growing hatred to take the place of the sadness I had been feeling. And it grew like a wild fire.
I’m not sure how long I laid on the battlefield after the betrayal but I knew it was near the witching hour by the moon. That’s when the wolves appeared.
I hadn’t died yet and I refused to let these dogs chew on me. I weakly clenched my sword and waited. Even near death I wasn’t going to the afterlife easily.
The wolves seemed to sense something because none of them came near me. They formed a circle around me and waited. I didn’t know what was about to happen and, honestly, I was scared. I was about to be torn to shreds by a pack of wolves and I wouldn’t be able to stop them.
I had noticed a fog coming from the moors all evening and, as the wolves circled, the fog drew in as well. It slowly engulfed the wolves. The next thing I remember is hearing yelping and howling before the mist dissipated. When it cleared the wolves were gone or dead. In their place stood two figures.
In my dazed state I thought they were my cousin and Olivia come to gloat over my body. I wasn’t going to allow that so I pulled my sword to my side and used my hatred and anger to force myself vertical. The way I saw things, it was one last battle and I was going to take one, or both of them, to hell with me. I didn’t get a chance.
The male figure motioned and had me held immobile by some black magic before I could think. He approached me and spoke in a very deep, resonating voice that seemed to flow from his mouth like the fog over the land.’ I could feel your pain from across the field of suffering. Tell me, if I could give you another chance at life would you take it? If I gave you the ability to reap your vengeance would you grasp it with both hands? If I gave you eternal life and powers to accomplish almost anything you could imagine, would you want it?’
I was delirious by now but still had the strength, or nerve, to ask:’ Why? Why me?”
He snickered when he answered.’ In all honesty? We had been watching the better half of the battle and noticed you and your fervor for the fight. It amazed me that you had even more blood lust than us.
So, we watched you. We saw the way you fought, the passion in your eyes. We also saw the cowardly betrayal by one of your own. We would like to grant you the chance for vengeance and to continue the battle. So, fallen, do you accept?’
I tried to look into his eyes but all I could see was his silhouette. His tall, lean silhouette. I couldn’t tell if he was a dream or reality. I didn’t know if I was slipping into a state of dreaming before death or if this was really happening. I didn’t care. I, weakly, shook my head yes and he approached me (as did his female companion). The next thing I remembered was waking up in the dungeon of a castle with a woman named Illya to tend to me and teach me the ways of the night breed.”
Killian sat back amazed at what he had just heard.” Whoa! What happened next? Was Illya the same woman that was on the battlefield? Who was the vampire that turned you? How did you get involved with the Danites? What happened to your cousin? Come on, don’t leave me hanging.”
Still sullen, Urian answered:” I don’t know who turned me. I never found out. Illya was the woman on the field but she was sworn to secrecy even to this day. I received my ‘initiation’ into the Danites as soon as I was well enough and able but, dear friend, that’s a different story.
My cousin was granted my share of land in Somerset as well as his own. Plus, he claimed my estate back home as well…and Olivia as his wife.
He turned into a vicious man and was eventually cursed for his evil ways and his line still carries the curse. Because of this, his surname was changed from Percival to Lupellus and it remains this way today.”
Killian screamed in amazement, not caring where they were:” HOLD ON! Slow down and rewind a second! I may not be the sharpest tooth in the mouth but I know the Lupellus name. Are you trying to tell me that Ascelin Lupellus, THE Ascelin Lupellus, is your cousin? The black wolf? The lord of the hunt? Right hand of Lupercus himself? The most vicious shifter in history shares your blood? You have got to be kidding me! You said he was cursed, right? All the legends say that he is pure blood. So, which is it?”
Urian looked Killian in the eyes and simply said:” Yes.”
“Yes?” Killian said, exasperated” Yes? I hate when you give me that answer! You mean he’s curse AND he’s pure blood? That makes no sense. Plus, if he was pure blood then wouldn’t you be a shifter as well?”
Urian sighed. He had expected questions. Not quite this many questions, but questions. There was no way to stop the onslaught of queries. He had, after all invited them by telling the story. He was now obligated to explain everything. So, with another swig of whiskey, he began to explain.
“ Our family is pure blood but we’re sleepers. Sleepers are pure bloods that don’t go through the change. For whatever reason it never takes place. They, sleepers, are shifters that seem to have a block that prohibits them from changing. When Ascelin was cursed the block was, essentially, removed. The curse also augmented his natural abilities as a shifter. It’s that augmentation that, by all accounts and legends, has made him as large, cunning and vicious as he is today. The draw back is that his human form, even his very humanity, is slowly slipping away. From what I’ve learned, he can no longer walk among humans because he is becoming more lupine. He sends his family to do the minor errands. He still ventures forth to take care of “important matters”, though.
I have no idea if the curse would have affected me. I can only guess that being turned may have prevented that and kept the ‘block’ in place.”
“Umm…boss. One more question. If you were brought back for vengeance, why is Lupellus still alive?” Killian asked this hesitantly knowing that it may strike a nerve. He was not wrong.
His friend and commander spoke through his teeth.” Thanks for reminding me. Nice way to pour salt on the wound. Ascelin’s still alive because, by the time I recovered, he had gone back to Normandy, claimed my life, my land and my love. I spent the first several centuries pursuing him and his family but he always seemed to stay one step ahead. He and his family are like rats, the more you kill, the more there seems to be. Damnedest thing about shifters, they can have children and we cant. Proof the Gods have a sense of humor, I guess.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t want to dampen the mood anymore than it already is but I think we should call it an evening. We’re both felling pretty numb and we have a long night ahead of us tomorrow. Look, my place is just a few miles. Why don’t you crash with me today? It’ll save you from going all the way out to your place.”
“I guess you’re right about the evening but I’m going to have to turn down the offer for a bed. I think I’ll swing by Ezebella’s again. You know, to check on her. I may get one last kiss before I turn in.” Urian’s voice went soft with the thought of seeing Ezebella again and Killian worried that his mentor and friend was getting in too deep for his own good.
“You don’t want to do that, Uri. She’s probably asleep already. Just come crash with me. Mortals and Embraced both need their beauty sleep. No offense but you could use about 60 years worth.” With that comment, Killian turned his glass up and slammed it back down onto the table to signify that he was done for the night.
He looked across the table at his friend to see if he’d finished his drink but Urian had already left. Killian rushed out the bar and down the street to find his friend. There was no doubt in his mind where he’d gone. He prayed to whatever gods may exist that he was wrong. Urian didn’t need this unnecessary attachment. Not now. Not with everything that was about to happen.
He found Urian, in front of Ezebella’s apartment. He also found paramedics, firemen, police officers and a large inferno coming from Ezebella’s bedroom window.
“God damn it, Urian,” Killian whispered to himself. “I told you this was going to happen. Jesus, I tried to get you to stop.”
In front of him was his oldest and dearest friend on his knees, face in his hands crying and screaming into the night.
If anyone heard his screams, if any god heard them, no one answered. The fire consumed everything in the brownstone until all that was left was a pile of rubble, ash and one decimated heart.
2
Five miles outside town is an estate that was built by Thomas Jefferson for a close friend. It’s a 30,000 square foot house that sits in the middle of 200 acres of forest, gardens and a hedge maze. The house itself is very quaint. The brown brick is trimmed in white wood around the eaves and windows on both floors. The windows themselves are all original hand blown glass. The double doors are handcrafted and made from ironwood and stand ten feet tall and are two foot thick. It’s an imposing image for anyone who hasn’t ventured forth onto the grounds before. And an intimidating landmark for many that have visited.
Neither the grounds, nor the doors, nor the dogs bother the visitor that approaches on a vintage motorcycle as the last rays of sun disappear behind the horizon. He’s been here hundreds, maybe thousands, of times over the past 200 years. He is so familiar with the lay of the house and the grounds that he could walk or drive the blind folded. So, It’s no surprise when he nonchalantly parks the bike and strolls up the walkway to the doors.
A knock at the doors, a brief wait and an answer by a tall, gaunt figure. The gentleman who answers looks only a few years younger than the gods yet he stands as straight and proud as any king. His white hair is perfectly combed. Indeed, his entire demeanor resonates with propriety and protocol.
He looks at the visitor down the length of an very large and long roman nose and asks in a very nasally British accent:” May I help you, sir?”
To him the visitor sounds like a disrespectful child when he answers:” You sure can, Dar. Where is he? I’ve been sent to try to bring him to his senses.”
In a practiced dead pan tone that has made some wonder if he was more automaton than human being the gaunt man answers:” The name, master Killian, is Darwin. I would appreciate the respect of using my full name. In return for that courtesy, I wont call the dogs on you…again.”
Remembering the pain the six guard dogs inflicted last time he showed up and disrespected Darwin, Killian agrees. Reluctantly, but he agrees nonetheless.
“So, Darwin, where’s Urian?”
“He’s in his study, sir. I will ask if he is receiving visitors. Please wait…”
He didn’t have time to finish his sentence before Killian brushed past him and started down the hall towards Urian’s study yelling:” Thanks but no thanks, Dar...err…Darw
Darwin is a proud man from a long line of servants that have assisted kings, heads of state and dignitaries for centuries. Propriety would not allow him to show his feelings outwardly but, as Killian rushes towards the study, he whispers:” Good luck, sir. Good Luck.”
He sits at his desk with a dying candle his only light. He’s sat in the same room through wars, famine, depressions and other world shattering, history altering events but this time the turmoil is inward. He’s argued with himself dozens of times as to whether it was his fault Ezebella died. Could he have done something, anything, to prevent it? If he had stayed a little longer (he tells himself) maybe she wouldn’t have been in the apartment. Maybe he should have kissed her a little longer. Maybe he should have talked more. Maybe he should have never met her to begin with.
As he’s pondering these things his mind drifts back to the only time he’d ever been in her apartment. It was a few months after they’d started dating and the first time they’d made love. He’d come over that evening to help her sleep and ended up making love to the sound of the rain all night. In the afterglow they held each other and talked about everything and nothing. As the conversation ebbed she mentioned cooking something to eat and taking the trash out. He offhandedly told her that he’d do both and for her to just rest.
She’d been laying on his chest but propped herself up to kiss him on the lips when it happened. Out of nowhere she said:” Thanks, honey. It’s great being with you. You’re intelligent, funny, and handsome, you cook, you clean, you do it all. It’s like being in love with superman.”
The shocked look on her face when she realized what she said was priceless. Her eyes got as large as bagels and a look of complete horror and shock came over her face. She jumped out of bed and started looking for her clothes as if she was trying to escape a burning building. He had never seen anyone so embarrassed about saying they loved another person. He let it go a few minutes before he reached up and took her hand and told her that he loved her as well.
Her face instantly relaxed and she fell back into the bed and his arms asking:” Really? You’re not just saying that?”
He smiled warmly and answered:” Yes, love. Really.”
They held each other until it was almost dawn. He stayed with her that night until he was forced to leave or perish but perishing that night would have been such a beautiful thing compared to his torment now. He did love her with all his heart but she was gone now and nothing could be done to fix that.
In frustration (and with a tear stained face) he hurls a brass paperweight from his desk. It may have crashed into the wall had it not been caught in the left hand of his oldest and closest friend.
“It’s not your fault, Urian. It’s not. You need to get over this. Hell, it’s been almost three months now. This isn’t like you at all. I mean, she was just a mortal.”
If Killian had anything else to say, he wasn’t given the chance. Faster than he could follow, Urian was out of his chair, over his desk and across the room with Killian’s throat in his hand.
He’d known Urian for almost 500 years and had seen him in many degrees of anger but this was something different. His friend’s face was barely eight inches from his own. He could smell and feel his breath. He could see the despair, hurt and anger in Urian’s eyes. Urian had held Killian back during many fights so he knew his comrade’s strength but this was far more than that. Urian seemed possessed. He had such a fierce grip on Killian’s neck that his fingernails were slowly sinking into his best friends flesh. He had also pinned him against the wall and shocked Killian’s system so badly that he couldn’t dissipate into smoke to get loose. For the first time since he was turned Killian knew fear. Real, deep, spine-numbing fear for his life and it was because of his friend. And, for the first time since he’d met Urian, he had no idea what was going to happen next.
Urian was so full of anger that he couldn’t see whom he was holding and he didn’t seem to care. He just knew that he wanted to lash out at someone. He’d been looking for an opportunity like this for almost three months. He wanted blood and didn’t care whose it was.
He stared at his friend through rage filled eyes, flaring his nose to take in the smell of the room and Killian’s fear. He loved that scent. That was always the tell tale sign of winning a battle. When fear overtook an opponent, the opponent always lost. This, though, was different. It was his best friend. Someone that had fought and bled along side him. His friend and brother. This was not the enemy that his fury filled mind kept trying to convince him it was. So, with his nails drawing dark blood from Killian’s neck, he spat through clenched teeth:” Ezebella was my beloved! My soul! My heart! My last vestige of humanity and if you want to keep your head attached a bit longer,” he squeezed harder to emphasize his point,” you WILL NOT refer to her in an offhanded way or as someone or something disposable. Do you understand, Killian?” The last question was more to emphasize to Killian that he knew exactly what he was doing and to whom he was speaking.
Killian got the point loud and clear. “Yes, sir. Now, would you let go of me before you accidentally decapitate me?”
“Fine.” With that, Urian pulled his hand back, slightly ripping the flesh of Killian’s neck. It healed almost instantly but that didn’t matter. Killian knew his place.
Apologetically and almost forced, Killian whispered:” Look, Bro, I’m sorry. I knew you loved her…um…love her, but I didn’t realize how deep it was.”
With a lowered head Urian faintly said:” I was going to tell her the truth about everything the next time I saw her. I was going to ask her if she wanted to be turned so we could be together forever.”
“Shit.” Killian whispered to himself. He thought” What did we do?” But he said:” I’m sorry, Urian. I really am.”
“It’s ok. Just be careful of your words next time.”
“Sir!” Darwin was a professional, formally trained butler with years of experience and tons of decorum. He had experienced more than most people could imagine. He is not one to scream without reason… but he was, and repeatedly. “Sir! You better hurry, please!”
Both Urian and Killian ran in the direction of the screams, towards the entryway and the ironwood doors. A thousand thoughts ran through Urian’s mind. He imagined a myriad of scenarios as to what could have made his servant and friend scream. What he saw was not one of those.
The double doors that had withstood troops, riots and even cannon fire were torn from their hinges. They were ten feet tall and, together, they are six feet wide. The creature they saw took up most of that space. It was nearly eight feet tall and four feet wide at the chest. Its massive arms were as large as its tree trunk size legs. Its entire being was framed in orange fur with black stripes. Its wide chest was heaving from the exertion of pulling the doors off their age-old hinges. It stood there for a moment growling and staring directly at Urian.
“Shifter!”
“Killian! No!”
If the hot-tempered vampire heard his friend and commander, he didn’t respond. As fast as thought he raced toward the weretiger and seemed to evaporate into a mist.
What was supposed to happen was Killian’s favorite maneuver in battle. He would be inhaled by his opponent and become solid enough to burst his lungs. What actually happened was something altogether unexpected.
As he neared the beast he felt a wind blowing towards him, slowing his progress. Then, for the second time in less than an hour, he felt a hand around his throat, squeezing to the point of drawing blood.
“Would you call your dog off?” The voice came from the shifter. It was soft and low with a slight guttural inflection.
He continued:” I have come under the treatise set forth by Kane and Lupercus in the time of unity.”
“I require proof that you are acting in an honorable fashion, shifter.” The words forced their way out of Urian’s throat. He was being polite more for the sake of his friend, who was in the claws of this creature, than out of any respect for a tradition that hadn’t been observed in thousands of years. Still, though, he was intrigued as to what this beast may want.
“Very well.” The deep tone resonated through Killian’s ears as he was dropped. While he hit the floor, the weretiger shifted into a very tall, muscular Nubian with tattoos across his face, shoulders and arms. Even Urian had to admit to himself that the man was just has intimidating as the beast.
“ I assume that was proof enough for you, undead?” The man’s voice was as deep and guttural as his shifted voice.
While Killian was picking himself off the floor and collecting himself, Urian approached the nearly seven foot tall shifter and extended both hands, palms up.
“I accept your proof, Kahlil, and I extend a welcome to you.” The words were ceremonial and the outstretched hands were to show he had no malicious intent. Truth be known, he’d have rather torn the shifter limb from limb with those hands.
“ I see you are aware of the old ways, blood drinker, and I thank you for your ability to abide by them even though I’m sure its tearing you apart to be this close to a shifter.” Kahlil’s words poured from his mouth with a mixture of understanding, irony and pleasure. He was being diplomatic but the condescending undertone was there.
“ I have come for one purpose, embraced, then I will take my leave.” Kahlil kept his eyes firmly fixed on Urian whose hands were still outstretched. Urian met, and kept, the gaze. The weretiger slowly reached into a satchel and pulled out a manila envelope.” This might of some interest to you, night breed.” Kahlil placed the envelop into Urian’s hands, bowed, turned and walked out of the house stopping only long enough to apologize to Darwin for the intrusion.
After the Nubian was out of sight, Urian opened the envelope wondering what the creature had just given him. Why come this far and risk life and limb to hand him an envelope?
Cautiously, he opened it and pulled the contents out to examine them.
Killian had recovered completely by now and started yelling:” You’re going to let him walk out? That was Kahlil! He was our next target! You can’t let him get away. We have to go after him! I knew he was a powerful mage but the both of us can take him. Let’s go, boss.”
Not even bothering to look up, Urian simply tells Killian:” Shut the hell up. We aren’t going after him.”
A lone figure walks towards the wood line of the estate. His task complete, he makes his way through the underbrush until he finds a small group of people.
One man steps forwards and greets the werebeast:” Hail and well met, Kahlil. I take it he received the package?”
Kahlil nods” Aye, I just hope you know what you’re doing, Lord Ascelin."
3
Urian stared at the contents of the envelope for an eternity. Pictures are what he’d been given. Nothing more than pictures is what Killian saw. But Urian kept staring at them.
Killian slowly approached him and tried looking over Urian’s shoulder to get an idea of what had his friend transfixed but Urian was almost a foot taller than him so he was left with asking.
“Umm, Uri, what’s the matter? Why are you staring at those pictures? What’s wrong?” Killian tried hard to hide his fear and wasn’t sure if he’d been able to.
Urian passed them to his friend without looking up. “You look at them and tell me what you see.”
After a moment Killian responded:” The fire at Ezebella’s? Man, I’m sorry, Uri. Why did he give these to you? Damned shifters are wastes of flesh. Evil little fuckers.”
“Look at the pictures closer, Kill.” The statement was more of a command than a request and Killian knew it by the way Urian’s voice dropped.” What do you see?”
“Um, I see the fire and the paramedics and the smoke. The same thing we saw the night it happened. I don’t see what any...”
“Look harder.” Urian’s voice was powerfully and demanding and it scared Killian.
“ Damn it, Urian, I don’t see anything out of the ordinary. Like I told you, I see the fire and people and the smoke.” Killian was trying to sound confused and as clueless as possible.
Without taking the pictures from Killian’s hands, Urian pointed to a spot in the upper left hand corner of the frame.
“That! What is that?” The anger was rising in Urian’s voice like he knew something but Killian still played clueless.
“ It’s smoke, Urian! Just fucking smoke! I don’t know what you want me to see but it’s just smoke!” Killian’s anger was rising as quickly as Urian’s but for a different reason.
“Wrong! Look again. Look at the direction that the flames and the rest of the smoke is taking and then look at that one trail. You see it now? It’s going in the opposite direction! The opposite damned direction!”
“Uri. I don’t know what to say.” He didn’t. Killian was speechless.
“It was one of us in her apartment!” Urian was outraged and snarling between breaths. “ What the hell did they intend to accomplish with this and who the hell was it?”
Killian sighed:” Uri, I tried to tell you this would happen. I tried to tell you that you could be followed. Besides, who said it was one of us? It could be a shifter. You know how tricky they are.”
“Bullshit!” Urian spat through his teeth,” You’ve been around long enough to know that there are things we can do that they can’t and turning to vapor or smoke is one of them. For that matter that’s almost a lost talent. You’re the only one I know of that still knows how...unless you’ve taught someone else.” Urian got, uncomfortably close to Killian. “Have you taught anyone else?”
Killian didn’t have to lie about this.” I haven’t taught anyone, Uri. My sire, Joseph, taught me before he met his end with a mob in Salem. As far as I knew I was the last to have this talent. Well, until I heard your story. It sounds like your sire had the talent too. What can we do? It’s over. We just need to move…”
A backhand from Urian sent Killian flying across the room in against the wall.” I will do nothing until I get to the bottom of this. Tell the council that they can sun bathe for all I care! Until I figure out why this was done I am not accepting any more assignments and you can leave with a limp if you mention leaving this alone one more time.”
“Darwin! I need you to get me gear ready. I am going out tonight to find answers.” Urian didn’t offer an apology to his old friend nor did he offer to help him up. He just looked at him and said” Your choice. You decide between duty and friendship.” With those words Urian walked towards his study to change.
Killian got up on his knees, wiped the blood from his lips and yelled out to Urian:” Uri, stop!”
Urian paused in his tracks but did not turn around.
“ I have already made my choice Urian Gouel.” Killian let his anger seep from his voice for the first time in many years.
Urian turned his head just enough to make sure Killian heard him.” You have? And what is your choice Killian?”
A long pause as the two friends silently sized each other up. Then Killian spoke: “ I will get my gear as well. We’re in this together. I’ll be back in an hour and a half at the most.”
Urian smiled, slightly, for the first time in months and said:” Good, my friend. I will be waiting.” And he continued walking to his study.
Killian made it to his feet and grabbed his helmet as he walked out the door and mounted his motorcycle. When he was out of earshot of the house he hit a button on the side of his helmet. A ring then an answer.
An ambiguous voice answered. “Hello?”
“ This is Killian. I need to see you. I am on my way in.”
Killian drove off to his destination unaware of the eyes watching him from the bushes.
A man backed away from the road, turned around and ran back to an encampment as a wolf. Once there he shifted back and slowly approached his commander.
“Lord Ascelin, Killian has left the grounds. We have a flyer following him now and they should report back once he reaches his destination”
Ascelin nods in approval.” Very good, Jonathon. Be sure to let me know as soon as they arrive. I want to know Killian’s every step from this moment on.”
“Yes, sir” Jonathon bowed, turned and walked away.
Ascelin stood in silence staring in the direction of Urian’s house for some time before Kahlil walked up behind him.
“Lord Ascelin. It would be so easy to take him now. Urian Gouel has been the cause of so many deaths in the shifter and human community that he deserves to die. Just say the word and we will put an end to his unholy existence.”
Ascelin snickered a bit before answering.” Kahlil, my friend, I know what Urian has done to our kind. I know what you think he deserves. I also know that it is taking a lot to respect my wishes and I commend you for that. The gods know I wouldn’t have been able to walk into a place like you did without taking someone to the afterlife.
The fact remains that we need him. I am not saying to pull any punches when any of us meet him...and we will meet him. I am just asking you to realize that we need him alive. We need him more than you know. Please, Kahlil, just humor your old friend for a little longer and I promise you wont be disappointed, ok?” Ascelin put an arm across Kahlil and smiled.
Kahlil was a proud man. He was also very strong and stubborn. He had never disobeyed his friend and lord, though. So, with a deep sigh, he laughed and said:” Ok, my lord, but the moment you want him to see a sunrise I will be first in line to accomplish the task.”
Ascelin had to laugh at his friend’s attempt at levity.” If that time comes, I will let you do it and I will even help. Until then, thank you for humoring me one more time.”
Both of the men stood there and talked about old times and swapped war stories until Jonathon walked up and interrupted.
“Lord Ascelin. The flyer has found Killian”
4
“ Where are we going, Uri?” Killian asked a little confused and a bit perturbed at the fact his friend hadn’t spoken one word since they’d left his house over an hour ago.” I mean, Jesus, we’ve been driving so long that we may not make it back home before day…”
“We’re here.”
“We’re where? All I see is darkness and trees…lots of trees. What the hell, Urian?”
“ Killian,” Urian looked at his comrade with a very stern and matter of fact gaze” you can, either, come with me, or, sit in the car and wait. The choice is yours. Just don’t make so much noise.”
Killian watched his friend step out of the car, close the door, and wait. He hadn’t come this far to just sit in the car and not see whom Urian had traveled this far to see. So, with a sigh, Killian Gravenhoff climbed out of the car and stood alongside his friend.
Several minutes passed and nothing. Urian continued to stand in one spot with his eyes closed and muttering to himself. No one had ever claimed Killian was patient and he was not about to change that opinion.
Shoving Urian, Killian spoke loudly enough to cause an echo. “Hey. What’s up? Why haven’t we moved? Why haven’t we done anything but stand here?”
In an unexpectedly unperturbed voice Urian answered:” Because, my dear friend, I am waiting for her to acknowledge me and accept you so that we both may enter unharmed. She is not the most sociable being and isn’t prone to letting new visitors live. We can, however, pass through anytime we wish and risk being torn asunder by whatever traps or trials she has laid for unwary interlopers. What would you like to…ah…she has accepted and invites us in. Come, Killian. Let us proceed.”
Killian had come prepared to meet someone in a seedy bar or a back alley. That sort of thing was the norm for a Danite in the execution of his duties. What was going on here was far from anything he had ever experienced.
Urian stepped forward and disappeared into a tree. At first Killian thought that he’d gone behind the tree but a quick inspection proved him wrong. There were no footprints leading away from where Urian had stood. No indications that he had climbed the tree or left the area at all.
Perplexed and a little worried, Killian stood facing the tree and drew a deep breath before stepping from the forest road, through the tree and into a spacious, palatial ballroom.
Completely in shock at his surroundings he didn’t notice he friend standing next to him with a slight smirk on his face.
“Yeah. That’s the expression I had the first time I saw this place. I was in awe of the beauty of the entire estate...and it is an estate. It stretches over 1000 acres and has hundreds upon hundred of rooms. One could get lost in here for months. I know. I almost did.”
Flabbergasted by the idea that one minute ago he was standing outside a tree next to a barren strip of badly paved road and the next minute he was standing in a ballroom that would have made the czars jealous, all Killian could muster was.” Are…are we in the tree?”
Amused by Killian’s comment Urian chuckled and replied” We are nowhere on our plane. Not that I know, anyway. We are in a place that, if the owner wished, we would never escape. This place is as large or as small as she wishes it to be and we are at her mercy in regards to all things here. Even our very lives are at her mercy.”
“Um. Urian. Who, exactly, is she?” Killian asked this with more than a little concern in his voice. The thought of being totally at someone’s mercy was a prospect that he did not relish.
“She’s a pseudo-ascende
Urian was interrupted by Killian screaming as though he’d been tied to a post to greet the sunrise.
“ AN ASCENDED!? ARE YOU CRAZY? They’d just assume wipe out every creature in the realm before they talked to one of us! Jesus, Uri, I knew you were depressed but not suicidal! Why don’t’ we just stand outside for a few more hours and just let the sun burn us to a crisp?”
“ Killian, shut up. I said she was a pseudo-ascende
I had passed out during the battle between she and the others and when I awoke I was in her estate being cared for by servants. I was disoriented and began running through the corridors. I was lost for several days before she found me and brought me to her meeting room. That was a painful experience.
When I reached her, she was also in pain. She had done a great act of good and her body was reacting to that. She was entering a chrysalis stage so that she could handle whatever changes might occur. She’s gone through many of them over the years. I have helped her find her way back to the realm of light and she has helped me by being my eyes in the darkness as it were.
And, as I was saying, two things you need to remember. The first is that you should not move, under any circumstance. No matter what, don’t stray from where you are standing right now. Don’t, lean, shift your weight, and for your own good, don’t walk anywhere.”
Confused, Killian asked” Don’t move? What are you saying? How can we get to her if we don’t move?”
“Just wait and see. Emity! We’re here! I seek an audience with you! Please, grant me this favor.”
There was silence for a time. Killian had the passing thought that his friend had gone insane and that they’d end up dead. As the doubt entered his mind, it was swept away like smoke in a breeze. He was about to voice his concern to Urian when everything blurred and appeared to be moving. The rooms, furniture, paintings, everything seemed to be moving to allow them to pass; yet they were motionless. It was as though something was pulling them towards their destination.
“Oh, Kill, “
“ Yeah, Uri.”
“ I know you’ve seen quite a bit but try not to stare. She hates that. When in doubt, just follow my lead. We’re almost there now.”
It wasn’t a meeting room. It was more of a grand throne room with arches so high they were obscured in shadow, Paintings and sculptures that would have made the greatest human artist jealous and smells that seemed to tease the deepest desires. Urian had experienced the journey many times before yet it always seemed to leave him feeling uneasy. His body felt like it was out of synch with his soul. Killian had that reaction and much more. He found himself dry heaving the moment they ceased moving. His head felt like he’d been thrown inside a dryer set on high for 3 years.
Through the humming in his head, Killian heard Urian urging him to his feet.
“ Get up, Killian. She doesn’t like it when visitors aren’t standing. It makes her nervous. Remember to stand, follow my lead if you need and don’t stare.”
A whisper of a hint of a voice came to both men’s ears.
“Ahhhhhh my favorite friend, my comrade, my redeemer, how I have missed your company. Feel welcome here, Urian Gouel as should you, Killian Gravenhoff. Yes, I know your name as I know much but many secrets are revealed in time, aren’t they?”
Urian spoke up in a respectful tone” Emity, I have come to ask a favor. There are things going on that I need answers to. Will you help me?”
“ For you, love? Anything. Please. Come forward so that I may glean what I can from the both of you.”
Killian looked at Urian with a bit of apprehension but he got a nod of reassurance and proceeded to step forward with his blood friend.
“Oh, Kill. This…may hurt a bit.” Urian smiled the sadistic grin that he had for times when they were about to do something they may both regret.
It didn’t hurt too badly for Killian. The feeling was something akin to having a hot poker driven upward through his jaw and out the top of his head and then it was over. He looked to Urian for some sign that everything was on the level but his friend seemed lost in thought.
Thousands of images flashed through Urian’s mind but only one voice, Ezebella’s.
“Hi, nice to meet you too. My name is Ezebella…. Why, yes. I will go out with you…I love you too, Uri… Good night, Urian. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Urian…Urian..
It was Killian shouting at him.
Groggily Urian answered:” Yeah. Sorry, I was remembering. That’s what happens when Emity probes too deeply. How’d you handle it?”
“Um. Ok. I guess. It felt like the lobotomy that one shifter tried to give me about 50 years ago. Other than that it was peachy. Now, When do we get to know what she knows and why did she do that, anyway?”
“Emity is a seer but only a short term seer. She can only see a year or two ahead at the most. She probes a subject’s mind for all the information on the question then does whatever she does to come up with a conclusion.”
“Sounds interesting. Hey, how did you know all of that, Uri? You almost sound like you have the same talent.”
“Kill, unlike you, I ask questions. Now please be silent. Here she comes.”
A mist filled the room and the sound of running water followed. Urian stood still but Killian kept watch to see when the water would begin flowing at his feet. There was nothing but a single worm wriggling at his feet. No. Not a worm but a maggot. Not one but a dozen, no, thirty. Killian looked around and saw thousands of maggots writhing across the floor under the mist that had come in.
“Killian, “ Urian whispered” Remember, don’t stare. Please.”
“ I don’t promise anything but I’ll try” Killian was wondering what connection the maggots had with their host.
“ If you can’t promise, then we’re dead.” Urian’s voice was stern and serious and even a bit scared. That didn’t bode well.
“Ok, Uri. I promise.” If Urian was afraid of someone he called friend then Killian knew he should take care.
Killian watched as the maggots gathered a few feet away from he and Urian. Slowly the mass became a pile and the pile started taking on human characteristic
Her voice was light and airy and seemed to resonate more through Killian’s head than the room in which they currently stood.
“Urian…you have friends in enemies, enemies for friends. Alliances with traitors, feuds with loyalists and a blind eye to what you need to see. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer but know who is who and which is which. Love is lost and regained and lost again only to be regained if you can trust those that you despise and despise those you trust. Urian, you think f yourself as the puppet master but the ties that bind you are greater than any other puppet in this play. Know when to cut the strings or you may be hung with them to greet the daylight that kisses your face like no other. Trust your instincts more than those around you and believe your eyes less than you believe your ears. Killian is...”
Her voice trailed off as though suddenly deep in thought then she suddenly screams” Judas! You must leave! Betrayal!”
Before Urian could ask any more questions he and Killian found themselves a few feet from their car and not alone.
“ Do you think this is what she meant, Uri?” Killian asked as they both stared at the assembled mass of Counselors’ Guards.
A large man in the front stepped up and practically yelled:” Killian Gravenhoff and Urian Gouel, you will both accompany us to the Counsel. You will come along peacefully.”
Urian calculated the odds of escaping or fighting and didn’t find them favorable so he, reluctantly, agreed. They were escorted to their vehicle. They were followed and lead by a caravan of guards
As the cars pulled away from the isolated area a large black wolf accompanied by a smaller grey one and a tiger disappear into the night.
Its not enough to question authority
You must also speak with authority